


Heartsight

by thethaumas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 11:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5161757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethaumas/pseuds/thethaumas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One morning Professor Draco Malfoy receives a mysterious package, and in order to identify the contents he needs to ask for help from the only professor he is loathe to require assistance from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartsight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fuyutu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuyutu/gifts).



> Hey there friend, I hope that you enjoy this story! I tried to hit on most of your requests so I do hope that you like it!

**October, 2008**

The owls came swooping in on that crisp Thursday morning the same as they always did. Only this time a small brown owl, barely bigger than a man’s fist, landed right next to Draco’s plate at the high table. He stared at it for a moment, trying to place it, until he determined that he had never seen this owl before in his life. It gave an impatient hoot and hopped closer, brandishing its leg where there was a compact package securely tied. 

“All right,” Draco said and reached to detach the package. Once it was free, the owl gave him an affronted stare before it took off back out the window. Draco watched it fly off with a bemused expression on his face before he turned back to the package. 

It was tied with twine and wrapped in brown, unmarked paper. There was no card, no indication as to where or whom it came from. Draco pursed his lips, feeling uneasy. The war had been a while ago now but there were still those who held grudges about his reduced sentencing, or that he was free and alive at all. His hand hesitated before the package, and then he pushed it aside. It would not do to open something dangerous in the Great Hall. 

Tracey’s elbow nudged his as she peeked over his shoulder to his plate, “Who’s it from?” she asked in a quiet voice. 

Draco turned to look at her, she’d grown out of the slightly gawky nervous girl she’d been in school and was now a tall sturdy woman. She had taken up the vacant Transfiguration post about five years ago, Headmistress McGonagall having finally admitted that she could not continue to teach and run the school. Tracey had proven herself to be a great teacher to the students, not just in teaching the material so they understood, but from what Draco had both heard and seen, she was always there for any student who had questions. It seemed incongruous, this open and frankly, loving, young woman who had grown from the girl he’d barely paid any notice to in school. From what he’d heard from Pansy, Tracey had always been rather closed off and unfriendly in the dorms, though perhaps that had more to do with her dorm mates than anything else. 

“It doesn’t say,” Draco said after a beat. “I’ll open it later.” 

Tracey gave him a long look at that and then she nodded, “That’s probably for the best. You should get Flitwick and Tremain to run some tests on it first.” 

“I will,” Draco promised with a small smile for her in thanks. Charlotte Tremain had been teaching Defence against the Dark Arts for the past seven years. After a few failed professors, McGonagall hired the French woman straight out of Beauxbatons and she’d stayed ever since. 

Three years ago, right after Draco had finished his Post-doctoral studies on modern wizarding history, he found himself in possession of a letter offering him employment as the new History Professor at Hogwarts. To say that Draco had been surprised would be putting it very lightly. Binns had been such a staple at Hogwarts while Draco attended, it was hard to imagine anyone ever convincing him to leave. That the headmistress would even want Draco to return to the school he'd helped nearly destroy was, well, humbling, if he was being honest. Despite his extensive education, Draco knew that finding any employment that would utilize his knowledge would be next to impossible thanks to the mark on his arm, so it wasn't really a question of whether he'd accept.

It was only after they'd drawn up his employment contract that Draco learned that Potter was already a professor at Hogwarts, of course. But, oddity of oddities, McGonagall informed Draco that Potter was their resident Potions Master and had taken over for Slughorn. When she'd told him, Draco had sat there wondering if there was some sort of punchline, because surely no one really expected him to believe that the boy who was always fumbling up his Potions in class could ever be competent enough to be a Master. 

And yet, no punchline came. Draco found himself sharing meals and halls with Potter once more, and the most frustrating thing of it all was that Potter seemed to actually be good at his job. Students were doing well in his Potions classes and he was even able to get the ones who had trouble to learn and improve. 

At first Draco had thought that others were just lauding their hero for doing the bare minimum as an educator, but as he continued to overhear from the students about what a great professor Potter was, he had to begrudgingly admit to himself that perhaps Potter was actually good at his job. Of course, Potter had to revel in the attention like the idiot he was. Draco may have gotten attention for turning the History curriculum around at Hogwarts, but you didn’t see him posing around for fans or anything. 

Draco huffed, it would do no good to put himself in a dark mood before dealing with the package. He had to find Flitwick and Tremain before either of them went off to get ready for classes. Luckily, it looked like he was departing the table earlier than either of them. He walked over to Flitwick's chair by the headmistress and bent to ask for a quick word before classes started for the day. Flitwick nodded and said of course he could make the time. Now Draco just had to speak to Tremain, who, for whatever reason, always sat with Potter and Longbottom like they were a bunch of old chums. 

Potter noticed him as he approached and gave Draco a small smile, Draco resisted the urge to sneer in return, barely. They were colleagues, and Draco had mastered pretending he liked being in Potter's presence in the last few years. Though, there was always that small part of him that seemed to revel in being near Potter. Draco liked to put that down to the part of him that liked to rile Potter up, and ignore the small voice in the back of his mind that liked to bring up the old crush he used to have on Potter. It was ages ago and irrelevant now. 

"Draco!" Potter called with a laugh, continuing to stubbornly insist on calling Draco by his name, of all the presumptuous things. "Charlotte and I were just discussing the merits of surprise in a duel, and here you are." He was looking at Draco, his eyes twinkling with something that Draco didn't care to analyze. 

"Yes, well." Draco said, drawing himself up and facing Tremain. "I was wondering if you might have some time to look over something for me before class today." 

Tremain looked at him for a moment with a calculating expression and then said, "This has something to do with that package you just received, doesn't it?"

Draco could see Potter stiffen out of the corner of his eye and had to steel himself for when Potter would invariably barge in thinking he knew what was best. “Yes,” he said quietly, keeping his attention on Tremain. “Would you mind running some diagnostics on it?” 

“Not at all, let’s go do that now, I assume you’ve already spoken to Filius?” Tremain said, putting her napkin on her plate and standing up. She gave Potter a distracted nod that he returned, though his gaze was targeted on Draco, weighty and intense. 

Draco ignored him. “Yes,” he replied and led her out of the hall. As he did he noticed that Flitwick had already left. 

Flitwick was waiting for them in the small classroom right off the great hall, and he quickly ushered them inside. “Come on, come on, let’s get this done quickly.” he said as he directed Draco to put the package on one of the desks. 

He did, and then Tremain and Flitwick both leaned down close to the box to visually inspect it first. 

“Could be anything,” Tremain said in an undertone. “Would you like to start?” she asked. 

Flitwick grinned at her and started casting some diagnostic charms on the box. Lights flashed gold, green red, and blue, before Flitwick stepped back with a frown on his face. Then Tremain tried. She cast a wobbling silver net around the package that fired off shots of white light while she cast some pink, yellow, and orange spells. Draco stood watching them with baited breath. When Tremain stepped back, a frown on her face as well, Draco let go of the breath he was holding. 

“Did you find anything?” he asked, looking between the two of them. 

“No,” Flitwick said slowly, looking at the box with a puzzled expression. “Are you certain it is dangerous?” 

“It was sent as it is, no signature, no card.” Draco explained. 

Tremain looked at him carefully, “Yes, it is suspicious, but neither of our tests have come up with anything spelled to the packed that is dangerous. Perhaps it’s just an anonymous gift?” She asked, her voice gentle in a way that had Draco’s hackles rising. He felt a little like they were just humouring him. 

Draco shook himself a little, he knew that they weren’t. It was prudent to check unmarked post and he knew they didn’t think less of him for being cautious, even if it felt a little like they did. He smiled at the two of them in thanks and pocketed the package. Since it wasn’t dangerous he figured it would be best if he opened it alone. After making sure to thank the both of them thoroughly for their time and efforts, Draco swept out of the room and made his way up to the third floor where his classroom was. 

The windows faced the Quidditch pitch, and every so often he’d find himself distracted in the middle of a lecture as some kids took their brooms up. He rarely flew anymore, there just didn’t seem to be any time for it--and well, if he was honest with himself, some of the best part of flying was egging on his competition with Potter. But Draco didn’t like to self-reflect too much on why going up against Potter made his blood sing in a way that he had never found anywhere else. So instead he would spend time going over his academic journals to keep abreast of the latest breakthroughs in research, and brush up on his historical texts to ensure that what he taught his students was not only accurate, but information from multiple sources led to more unbiased information so his students could decide for themselves who they believed was in the right for any conflicts they covered in class. 

Except. 

Except he would find himself distracted on the days when one lone figure would fly, larger than any of the students, and still so refined in his flying that it had Draco wondering why Potter was teaching instead of playing professionally. He'd find himself staring, his gaze following Potter's dips and dives, and then Draco would always snap back to himself, flustered and frustrated with himself for, even now, being so drawn to Potter.

Draco pulled out the essays he would be handing back today, giving them another once-over just to keep his attention within the walls of the school. Potter was likely down in the dungeons teaching Potions anyway, and besides, it wasn’t like Draco felt any real need to see Potter. Or desire to stare at the way he had such good control in the air. It wasn’t even like he kept a pair of omnioculars in his desk in the room to watch Potter, that would be preposterous. Sometimes he just liked to keep a weathered eye on the forest--one could never be sure just how tame it was really feeling at any given time. 

Though, he was glad that none of the other professors tromped into his room and rifled through his desk, Draco wasn’t sure he’d really be able to explain the omnioculars to anyone else in a satisfactory way. He could hardly explain them to himself as it was. 

It wasn't like he'd come here and suddenly joined Potter's simpering fan club. The man was still an utterly arrogant fool. But Merlin, could he fly. 

Draco shook himself violently. It did not do to dwell on thoughts of Potter. He had far more important things to think about, such as that strange package he received that he was sure must be dangerous, no matter what the identification spells said. He pulled the unmarked package out of his pocket and placed it on his desk. It certainly looked innocuous, but if the war had taught him anything, it was not to trust anything that seemed like it couldn't hurt him. Malice didn't need to be obviously packaged to cause damage. But, he did trust the magical prowess of his fellow professors, and if they said the package was clean, then perhaps it was. 

That only made him all the more apprehensive about what could be tucked away inside. He took a look at the small clock he kept on his desk. There was still about twenty minutes before his first class would start, which meant he had about ten before the overeager Miss Devon and her friends came bustling in. That meant he likely had time to at least open the package and take a gander at what it held before students started filing in, but would it be wise?

Draco slid a finger over the top seam of the package, his curiosity winning over his inherent caution. They'd run the tests and had come up with nothing, so peeking inside really couldn't hurt anything. Besides, he would never know if his caution was in the right if he never opened the box. 

Mind made up, Draco pulled his finger away from the package and took out his wand. Just because he was pretty sure opening the box would do him no harm didn't mean he had to be an idiot about it. He cast a few simple charms and the wrapping fell away from a rather ordinary looking cardboard box. Draco's lips thinned into a tense line. Everything about the anonymity of this package set his teeth on edge. He tapped his wand against the top of the box and it opened, revealing a swatch of deep purple fabric that was covering whatever was inside. With another flick of his wand, the fabric parted and the small oddly shaped bottle within came to light. 

Draco frowned down at the bottle. It twisted strangely and the glass appeared to be slightly tinted, and nestled in the dark fabric it was impossible to tell what the liquid inside could have been. He was certain it was a Potion of some sort, but which one? Draco cast a preservation charm around the bottle and levitated it out of the box. He wasn’t going to risk actually touching it, just in case. He turned it around as he levitated it in front of his face, trying to ascertain what it could be, but he could barely tell what colour the liquid inside was with the tinted glass. It could be a light yellow, or perhaps green, or maybe gold? Draco squinted at the bottle, a frown deepening on his face. 

There was nothing for it, he couldn’t examine it any further at the moment without possibly risking the safety of himself or his students. Draco levitated the bottle back into the box and sealed it up again. He could try, after classes, to find a way to examine the contents--but a small part of him piped up in the back of his mind that he should take the whole of it to be examined by the Potions Master. Draco tried to push that thought aside, it was a Potion, and he used to be excellent with Potions, he was sure he could figure it out. 

Besides, the idea of asking Potter for help made him feel like he could taste bile in the back of his throat. He wasn’t a fan of asking anyone for help in general, but to have to need it from Potter of all people, well. Draco already owed him far too much that he could never repay. There was no way he could willingly give Potter any more to lord over him. Not to mention that he was pretty sure if he asked Potter for help it would only make the crush he’d never been able to fully quash blossom into something even less manageable. 

The door to the classroom creaked open, startling Draco out of his musings and he hurried to pack the box away in one of the pockets in his robes before any of the students saw. 

The package felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket the whole day. He found himself slipping his hand in his pocket and then snatching it back out again before he could do something foolish like fondle the box and accidentally poison himself by opening it and spilling the Potion inside. By the time dinner rolled around he felt a bit like his nerves were frayed rope. He just wanted to get to his rooms to try to figure out what the potion was on his own. 

It seemed nothing was going to go his way today, for soon after he’d sat down for dinner, the chair next to him was pulled out and of course it was Potter who sat down. He shot Draco a cheery smile and greeted him warmly. Even so, Draco couldn’t help tensing in his presence. 

“What do you want, Potter?” Draco asked, eyeing him suspiciously. They never sat together at any meal, and he was perfectly content with the status quo. 

“What, a bloke can’t enjoy a meal with another professor?” Potter asked with a grin as he piled some potatoes onto his plate. 

Draco sniffed, “It’s not like we’re friends, Potter. I can see no reason for you to sit here unless you want something.” 

Potter turned his whole attention on Draco then, and Draco sucked in a breath at finding himself at the focus of Potter’s intense stare. “You know, we’re adults now Draco, we could be friends if you’d let yourself go a bit.” He squinted at Draco, like he was trying to work him out, then he shrugged. “But I guess you’re right, I did want to follow up with you about that box you got today. It didn’t turn out to be dangerous did it?”

Hearing that Potter thought they could be friends had Draco feeling like something had come loose and was rattling around in his chest. He shook himself mentally, Potter was just playing nice so he could satisfy his curiosity, it was the only thing that made sense, it wasn’t as though he seriously thought they could be friends. Draco pursed his lips and pushed his food around on his plate, of half a mind to ignore Potter’s question, and the other man all together. But Potter was the Potions Master, and even though Draco was itching to try to figure it out himself, he knew it would be better to have a pair of eyes professionally trained for this sort of thing to figure out what the hell he was sent. 

“I’m not sure,” Draco said after a long pause. Long enough that Potter had turned his attention back to his own plate, his shoulders tighter than before. Looking at how tense Potter appeared now, Draco couldn’t help but wonder if it was because Draco ignored his words about being friends, or ignored his curiosity for too long. Either way, he couldn’t deny the thrill that, even by staying silent, he could still get under Potter’s skin. "The box itself wasn't, but I don't know what to make of what I found inside." He spoke again after taking a moment to revel in his ability to annoy Potter, even now. Thinking it prudent not to push the Potions Master away when Draco needed his help though, he decided he might as well talk to Potter. 

Potter's gaze slid over to Draco, but he kept his body facing forward, obviously still annoyed with Draco. "Well, what was it then?" He prompted, a stern frown pulling his lips down. 

It was difficult to not immediately pat his pocket where the package still sat, but Draco resisted. "It is some kind of Potion, I cannot identify it though." Draco admitted, a sour taste in his mouth. 

But then Potter straightened and gave Draco the full force of his attention, making Draco's mouth run dry. "Do you want me to take a look at it for you? I don't mind." 

"You don't?" Draco asked. He felt a little like he'd been put on his back foot. What sort of reality was this where Potter didn't mind helping him?  


Then Potter smiled, actually full on smiled at Draco and he honestly didn’t know what to do with himself. "Of course I don't mind. Why don't you come to my office after dinner, and we can work out what you've got there." 

Draco was nearly sure he must be dreaming. There was no other satisfactory reason for why Potter would be smiling at him, or offering to help him with such kindness. He nodded, figuring he might as well take advantage of the dream. "All right, after dinner then." He agreed and turned back to his meal. Though now the food just didn't seem that enticing. He felt a fluttering strangeness in his chest that took him a while to identify. He was excited. Excited to meet privately with Potter.

Draco took a moment to despair for himself.

By the time he had recovered and finished his plate, Potter had already left the table. Draco snorted inelegantly as he got up and started for the dungeons. Potter probably snuck off early so he could try to make himself look impressive in his office. What an utter prat. Draco trudged down to the dungeons and made his way through the winding halls to Potter's office. It was the same one Severus had used all those years ago, and Draco hoped that niggled at Potter every time he was in there. It would serve him right for how much hell he'd put Severus through in school, Draco thought, ignoring the twinge of guilt he felt at the thought of how much hell he'd put Severus through himself came to mind unbidden. 

Draco swallowed hard and knocked on the door.

It swung open on its own and Draco heard Potter's voice call out, "Come in," from inside.

The office was transformed. Where before it was rather dark and forbidding, with long and high shadows and deep dark corners, Potter had set up lighting that banished the shadows from the room giving it a much more open and welcoming atmosphere. Draco was sure that Severus must be sulking in his portrait at the changes Potter had made--come to think of it, Severus was probably sulking that Potter was Potions Master to start with. He really needed to make the time to go talk to his godfather's portrait. Draco stepped hesitantly inside, feeling rather like he’d walked into some alternative reality when he saw Potter rooting through the stuffed bookshelves on one of the walls. 

“Potter,” He said to announce himself. 

“Malfoy,” Potter said with a nod as he turned around to face Draco, holding an old tome in his hands. “You have the package?”

Draco nodded and fished the box out of his pocket. He looked around for somewhere to put it, and then settled for the large desk that was littered with papers and empty vials. Potter appeared to be just as messy as his disheveled appearance led one to believe. “What are you going to do?” he asked once he’d put the package on a clear space on Potter’s desk. 

Potter just quirked a smile at him. “I need to get a look at it first before I make any plans, yeah?” He walked over to the desk and, with a few silent flicks of his wand, the box was open and he had the bottle hovering in front of his face. Draco shifted and tried not to feel impressed by Potter’s ease with non-verbal spells. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t perform them as well, it just seemed like it was nothing for Potter, second nature even. 

While Potter was squinting at the bottle and firing off a few spells, Draco wasn’t sure what to do with himself, he didn’t really want to take one of the seats in from of Potter’s desk without permission and he wasn’t too keen on making himself comfortable in Potter’s space, regardless. If he did that, if he let himself do that, he might have to face all the strange stirrings he felt around Potter, and he wasn’t sure he would ever have the desire to do that. So instead, he turned to the bookshelves and started to peruse the titles. Most were, expectedly, older tomes on potion research, and a number of newer ones as well. Potter had an entire shelf devoted to past issues of _Potions Monthly_ magazines. Seeing them all lined up like that had a lump forming in Draco’s throat as he thought of the way that Severus always had a towering stack of them in the corner of this very office. 

“Draco?” Potter’s voice broke through his revere and Draco startled, then turned to face him. Potter was giving him a very odd look, and Draco wondered if perhaps he had tried calling Draco more than once. He felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment at the thought. 

Draco cleared his throat and stepped over to the desk to look curiously at the bottle, which was glowing with a faint blue light now. “Yes? Have you figured it out?” he asked, staring at the bottle with interest. He wondered what spell Potter had used to get that effect. 

“No,” Potter said with a frown, “I’ll need to run some tests in order to isolate the different ingredients. Right now I can’t tell much other than it has a wormwood base mixed with rosewater.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and gave Draco a lopsided grin. “While those both seem perfectly harmless, without knowing the other parts of the puzzle, I won’t be able to say if the Potion is safe, nor what it would be used for. Right now, it doesn’t look like a Potion I’ve ever seen before.” 

He levitated the bottle in front of him and then walked out from behind his desk. Due to where Draco was standing, for Potter to get to the door to his lab he had to brush by Draco in order to pass. Draco sucked in a breath as Potter’s arm brushed his chest. It meant nothing, he firmly told himself, he was not attracted to Potter. 

“Sorry,” Potter said as he brushed by. “Just want to get started isolating the potion,” he explained and then opened the door to his lab and went on through, leaving Draco in his office. 

Potter hadn’t dismissed him, though he hadn’t invited Draco into his lab either, but since he didn’t seem too phased by Draco’s presence anyway Draco followed him through into the lab. Potter was already setting up on his worktable, the room was his own personal lab and much smaller than the classrooms, but more more highly organized than his office had been. He was setting up a cauldron on the table, then he quickly stepped away to gather ingredients from his storeroom. Draco took up residence on one of the stools in the corner so he could watch Potter work. Purely so he could watch what Potter was doing to ensure the Potion wasn’t volatile, of course. 

Then Potter returned to the worktable and transfigured his glasses frames into a pair of protective goggles, and Draco had to shift in his seat, unable to deny how he found Potter in those goggles far too attractive. He turned his focus onto what Potter was doing instead, trying valiantly to ignore his attraction. It made no sense anyway, it was just because Potter had turned out looking so fit. Draco shook his head, he might be willing to admit that perhaps he didn’t really know Potter aside from the way he’d always seen him, as an insufferable nosy prat, and that was all the more why his attraction made no sense--he still could barely stand Potter. 

Well. 

Perhaps that wasn’t entirely true, Draco admitted to himself as he scooted his stool a little closer to Potter’s worktable to be able to see him working better. When Draco allowed himself to really get introspective he knew that he was just grasping at his former impressions of Potter to keep him at arm’s length. Draco never wanted to be a simpering fan, but he also didn’t want to acknowledge how much Potter meant to him when he was so very aware of how little he meant to the other man. Sure, Potter may have said they could have been friends, but Potter was just friendlier now and seemed to be friends with everyone these days. It didn’t mean he really wanted to get to know Draco at all. Draco refused to settle for halves of something he wanted--so it was much easier to pretend he didn’t give a toss about Potter’s opinion. If he actually admitted how much he craved Potter’s good humour, then he’d have to admit that he would never mean much to the other man, and Draco couldn’t settle for that. 

Potter placed ingredients into his cauldron and set it to simmer as he stirred very precisely. 

“What are you making?” Draco asked with a frown at himself for being unable to identify what Potter was doing. 

Potter stirred another few rotations before he looked up at Draco through his goggles. “It’s just a solution to help break down the potion. Once it’s complete I can put about half the bottle in here and it’ll be able to break apart the ingredients of the potion into their essence so we can see what this thing is made of.” 

“But that’s impossible,” Draco said automatically, leaning over so he could look closer into the cauldron. Everything he knew about Potions said what Potter proposed wasn’t able to be done. 

“I suppose if I were trying to break it apart and have each ingredient return to its natural state, then yes, that is certainly impossible.” 

“Then what--” 

“Their _essence_ , Draco, not the original state. I don’t care about what they look like, I just need to know what they were so I can figure out if they are toxic when brewed together. It’s like getting the ghost of the pieces of the Potion.” Potter explained, giving Draco that same lopsided grin that had Draco’s heart hammering louder in his chest. “Severus helped me come up with it.” 

Draco blinked at Potter, sure he must have misheard. “S-Severus?” he asked, sitting back on his stool and looking up at Potter in confusion. 

“Yeah,” Potter shrugged. “What, did you think he’d just let me use his labs and notebooks without giving me what for first?” he asked with a laugh. 

“I just thought that any Potions professor would use these rooms--” Draco trailed off, thinking about what Potter said. He could see Severus taking particular glee in giving Potter a set of near impossible tests in hopes of chasing the Golden Boy away. He eyed Potter, feeling a little more impressed that he was the resident potions master now. 

“There are others, but Severus didn’t just brew Potions, he invented new ones and new spells. I knew that if I wanted to be good at this, really good at it, I’d have to learn from him first.” Potter grinned at Draco again. “Of course, he was completely difficult about the whole thing, but I learned a lot.” 

“And now you’ve worked together to create this?” Draco asked, looking at the cauldron in interest when Potter took his stirring rod out. 

Potter tapped the stirring rod against the side of the cauldron, shaking off the last drops of the potion, and then he turned the flame lower beneath it. He braced his hands against the worktop as he stared into the cauldron, watching it bubble with a weathered eye. “Yeah, it was strange at first, but he’s tolerable when you’re talking Potion theory.” 

Draco couldn't help his own wry grin in response. He well understood how much easier it was to talk about Potions with Severus over anything else. "Yeah,” he said softly, suddenly missing his godfather's caustic personality with a surprising fierceness. When he looked back up at Potter the other man was watching him with a strange expression. 

“Do you ever talk to him?” Potter asked, his voice soft in a way that made Draco feel prickly. 

“No,” he snapped with more bite than was really necessary, but what business was it of Potter's anyway? 

Potter shrugged. “Well, when you decide you want to, I know he'll be glad to hear from you.” Draco just pursed his lips in response and Potter shook his head. “Anyway, this will need to sit for a day before we can use it to deconstruct your potion. Do you mind if I keep it in my lab here?” 

“We can’t know tonight?” Draco asked, feeling uneasy about not having an answer right away. 

Potter raised an eyebrow at Draco as his hands were busy preparing the cauldron to sit overnight. “I seem to remember you were good at Potions once Draco, surely you know that some of the more delicate ones need time to mature properly before they can be used effectively?” 

In that moment, Draco could see a frightening resemblance between Potter and Severus that spoke to Potter spending far too much time with the portrait of their old Potions professor. He knew immediately that he didn’t like it. Those slightly condescending tones just didn’t fit coming out of Potter’s mouth. But then Potter grinned and winked at him, and Draco let out a relieved breath, Potter was having him on. “Relax, Draco, we’ll figure it out. The Potion does need time to mature a bit before it is really effective though. But don’t worry, I’ll lock it down so no one else can access it until it is ready to be tested. Okay?” 

“Well, it appears I don’t have much of a choice in the matter, do I, Potter?” Draco asked and stood from the stool he’d been sitting on. He would just have to accept that the unknown potion would be safe in Potter’s possession. 

Potter put the potion in a cabinet specifically for potions still brewing, and then locked that one before taking the Potion that Draco received and locking it away in another cabinet. “No, but I thought you’d appreciate it if it seemed like you did.” 

Draco scoffed, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit touched by the admission, it did mean something to him for Potter to have thought of that. 

After the Potions were all locked away tightly, there really wasn’t any reason for Draco to stay down there in Potter’s lab. He brushed off his robes and nodded at the other man. “Thank you for doing this, Potter,” he said, the gratitude almost sticking in his throat. 

“It’s really no problem, Draco. I mean, what use would I be as a Potions Master if I wasn’t any help when people needed it?” Potter asked with a laugh. “Anyway, I’ll let you know when it’s ready for the next step.” 

“Okay,” Draco nodded, clearly hearing that he’d been dismissed. He swallowed down the spark of disappointment that thought brought upon him. It was unreasonable. It was a school night, Potter likely wanted to get to his grading or whatever he needed to do to prepare for his Friday classes. “Goodnight, Potter.” Draco said and quickly left Potter’s quarters and stepped out of the dungeons so quickly he practically flew--not even hearing Potter’s shout after him. 

He felt so foolish by the way his emotions would fluctuate so much in Potter’s presence. This was why he tried so hard to quell the useless crush he’d developed on Potter ages ago. It would lead nowhere, obviously, and by allowing it to fester as he had, for he was truly too weak to kill it, he was just making a fool of himself. Even if he was the only one who knew that he was, it was enough. 

It certainly wasn’t helping that Potter continued to insist on calling Draco by his given name--but even so Draco couldn’t get himself to tell Potter to stop acting so friendly, he felt too starved for the other man’s good humour after seeing it delivered upon practically everyone else. Draco wrapped his robes tighter around himself against the chill the castle always seemed to take on at night as he made his way up to his quarters up in the west tower. 

\--

Friday was busy for Draco, even without the thrum of anxious energy he felt in the back of his mind when he thought of the Potion he was waiting for Potter to discover the makings of. He had set an exam for his seventh and fifth years so he had many nervous students shuffling in and out of his classroom all day, and their own nerves made Draco’s own anxieties feel far more remote. Still, he was tense with waiting to hear from Potter even though he knew that he wouldn’t hear from the other man until there was a break in classes, or until the end of the day, which he was glad for as he couldn’t do anything until his classes were out anyway. Logic didn’t matter much for his need to have an answer though, and he found himself tapping his foot quite a few times throughout the day. 

Draco’s classes ended early on Fridays, so he had a while before dinner and ended up spending them in his room going over every bit of mail he’d received recently for any sort of clue as to where the Potion came from. It was while he was organizing his mail chronologically that a gleaming white stag galloped into his room, startling him to the point he nearly messed up all his work. 

Potter’s voice came slightly disembodied from his patronus saying, “Come down when you have a moment, the Potion is ready to be disassembled.” Then the stag turned and started back for the wall, and vanished before it reached the end of the room. 

He took his time making sure his papers were all sorted. Even though nothing had shed any light on where the mysterious package came from, Draco was pleased by having his correspondences in order. Only once he was satisfied did he get up and make his way down to the dungeons, feeling like his entire body was thrumming with anticipation. 

When he made it down to Potter’s office, it was much like it had been the previous night, the door opened after Potter called for his entry and Draco was again taken aback by how different it was now. This time though, Potter was standing by the door that connected to his lab and grinned at Draco for a moment before gesturing for him to follow. 

“Now, it won’t take long,” Potter was saying as he went to the locked cabinets and took out the cauldron and the potion. “I just need to put part of this potion into the solution and then we’ll have to wait for it to disassemble completely. It could take just a few minutes, or a few hours, it’s hard to tell at this point.” 

Draco couldn’t help stiffening, “So we might not even know tonight?” He asked, unable to keep the note of censure from his voice. If he could get the answer sooner, then he would be able to get away from Potter again, and he could work on stopping his stupid crush again. 

Potter sighed as he uncapped the potion and poured it into the solution. “Draco, do you want this done right? Or would you rather we rush it and ruin the Potion before we can find out what it is?” His steady hand poured just under half the potion in the solution, he looked like the consummate Potions Master in that moment with his entire attention on his brewing. 

With a sigh of his own, Draco took residence on the same stool he’d occupied the night before and set in to watch Potter work. “No, I want to know what it is. I didn’t think it would take any time to identify. I thought you’d just cast some spells and tell me if it was safe.” Draco said, waving his hand in the air in an effort to express what he meant, but feeling like he wasn’t doing so well. 

Potter was stirring the potion into the solution, having recapped the vial and put it aside, and he let out a laugh, finally looking up and over at Draco. “Unfortunately no, I cannot just wave my wand and give you the answers you seek.” He took out his stirring rod and tapped it against the side of the cauldron before putting it down on the table. “All right,” he said in a breath, “And now we wait.” 

“How will you know when it’s done?” Draco asked, leaning his elbows on the table and trying to get a look into the cauldron while remaining seated. 

“Ah, we put a monitoring spell over the Potion, and when the vapour is released it’ll let me know that it’s done.” Potter said, giving Draco another open smile. Then he drew his wand and cast a spell Draco hadn’t heard of that made a shimmering blue bubble enclose the cauldron. He blinked and the bubble seemed to vanish, though he was sure the spell was still working. 

Draco looked up at Potter, feeling slightly disappointed that he had no reason to stay again. “So that’s it then? You’ll let me know when it’s ready?” 

Potter pursed his lips as he put his wand back in its holster and then looked at Draco again, “I could, yeah.” Then he placed his hands on the table, palms open to take his weight as he leaned forward toward Draco. “Why are you so averse to being friends with me?” 

“What?” Draco reeled back, shocked by Potter’s directness, but also unsure of how to answer his question. Draco knew he couldn’t just be friends with Potter, not with how often Potter occupied his thoughts and how he felt inexplicably drawn to him. Just being friends with Potter would be torture. At least by keeping him at a distance, Draco felt like he had a chance of saving himself from his own ridiculousness. “It’s not--” he started, and then realized he really didn’t know what he wanted to say. 

“It’s not me?” Potter asked with a teasing quirk of his lips. He leaned back and crossed his arms. “I’m just curious, if you really don’t want me to be friendly I’ll stop. It’s just that I figured since we’re older now, and we’re different than we were in school, that we could try again maybe--” he shrugged then. “But if you really don’t want to, then I’ll just help you with what you need from the Potions Master and you can go on your way.” 

When Potter finished speaking he stared at Draco with a blatant challenge in his eyes, and Draco felt like his bluff was being called without even using one in the first place. As much as he didn’t want to be _just_ friends with Potter, he also didn’t want that kind of stilted relationship Potter just described, and by the way Potter was staring at him, it was almost as though Potter knew it, too. “No,” Draco said quietly, “I don’t want that.” He let out a breath and had to look away from Potter’s intense gaze, Draco might not know what he wanted to say, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to say it while actually looking at Potter. “I want--” 

But then a shout came from Potter’s office, where the door was sitting ajar between the two rooms. “Harry!” Came a high childish voice. 

Potter’s entire body seemed to snap to alert immediately. He moved so quickly Draco had barely sat up and Potter had already cast some protective charm around the cauldron and turned back to his office. But not before Draco saw the look of alarm on his face as he stalked toward the door. 

“Harry!” The disembodied voice shouted again when Potter got to the door. 

“Teddy!” Potter said, sounding just as happy as the child’s voice, and then he partially stumbled back into the lab, his arms full of a little boy with bright teal hair. “You’re early, I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.” 

“I know, but Grandma said she had to get something checked out at St. Mungo’s and so she tried to Floo you--when you didn’t answer she called Aunt Minnie and she said that you were probably busy brewing but that I could come early anyway.” Teddy said all in an excited rush of breath. Then he took in a gulp of air and stared at Potter. “You're not busy, are you?”

Potter readjusted his grip on the boy, but from where he sat Draco couldn't see his expression. “Just a bit, but we were wrapping it up for now anyway. But what happened to Andy?”

Teddy shrugged. “I dunno, she said her hands hurt.” Then his attention caught on the far side of the room where Draco sat and his eyes widened. He turned back to Potter and whispered loudly enough for Draco to hear, “Who's that?”

Potter turned around so he was facing Draco, looking surprised. “That's Draco Malfoy,” he said to Teddy, looking puzzled. “He's your cousin.” 

“My cousin?” Teddy asked and then squirmed in Potter's arms to get down. After he was put down, Teddy practically ran over to Draco and then stopped about a foot away to look up at him. He squinted up at Draco in such a way that Draco knew he was being judged. Then Teddy let out a laugh and his hair turned a light blonde to match Draco's. “I'm Teddy!” he said, bouncing on his feet. “Grandma said I had a cousin, but that you were very busy. Are _you_ still busy?”

Draco let out a breath as he stared down at the child. He was never good at judging ages--if his students weren't broken up by year he'd never be able to guess--but Teddy seemed somewhere around eight to ten years old, which meant Draco would likely be seeing him in his classes soon. He felt a sudden twinge of guilt for not having reached out to get to know his cousin at any time in the past few years. “No, like Pot--” he hesitated and swallowed hard in the face of Teddy’s exuberance. “Like Harry said, we were just wrapping up.” 

Draco looked up and couldn't help shooting a nervous glance toward Potter, but Potter was just watching them with a bemused smile on his face. Shrugging internally, Draco kneeled down so he was at eye level with the boy. “What do you usually do with your godfather?”

“Do you want to play with me then?” Teddy asked, his voice high with excitement. 

“Yes, I think it's time we got to know one another.” Draco answered with a smile. It was hard not to in the face of such joy. 

Teddy let out a happy cheer and turned back to Potter to ask, “Can he come back to the rooms with us?”

Potter stepped further back into the room so he could put a hand on Teddy's head, ruffling the blonde strands. “Yeah, Draco can join us if he wants to. Why don't you take him back out into my office while I clear up in here?” Potter asked and gave Teddy a grin. “You can tell him all about your animals.” 

Teddy seemed to light up at that, and before Draco knew it he was being pulled out of the lab by a very determined child. “We have to get out of the way when Harry is working,” he explained seriously. “It's very dangerous.” 

Then they were back in the office, and Draco was left wondering just how often Potter had his godson down here in his quarters for Teddy to know to leave him alone. Which led his thoughts back toward how he hadn't even made the barest effort to get to know a member of his own family. And all because he'd felt sure his aunt wouldn't welcome his presence in the child's life--except she had apparently told Teddy about him and gave him some explanation for why Draco never came around. It made something deep in his chest hurt, looking at this child that he could have made an effort to get to know. They were family, a commodity both of them had precious few of left. Draco promised himself that things would be different now. 

“Do you like animals?” Teddy asked as he climbed up into a comfortable position on Potter's desk chair. He looked rather diminutive in the large chair. 

“Yes, some of them. Which ones are your favourites?” Draco asked, taking one of the seats across the desk. He couldn't help asking, “Do you like sitting in Harry's seat?”

Teddy put his hands on the arms of the chair and nodded. “Yes.” he said and his hair changed to something reminiscent to Potter's bird's nest, his eyes deepening to a vibrant green. “Sometimes I wish he was my dad.” Teddy spoke quietly, his fingers finding and tugging at a stray thread coming out of one of the armrests.

“Oh,” Draco replied, not sure what to say to that. “He must be very good with you then,” he landed on, the words awkward and heavy on his tongue. It wasn't hard to imagine though, just from the glimpse he saw a minute ago, it was plain to see the love Potter had for Teddy. 

Teddy grinned. “He's the best! His stag is my favourite of all my animals.” 

“Your animals?” Draco asked, feeling lost all over again.

“Yeah! I draw them. I'll show you!” Teddy exclaimed. 

Then Potter came through from his lab and looked at them both with a pleased smile. “Getting to know each other?” he asked. 

“Yes! Can I show Draco my animals now?” Teddy asked as he scrambled up from Potter's chair and raced to the door back out to the hall. 

“Don't run!” Potter yelled after him, but Teddy was already out the door. He turned to Draco with an exasperated look. “Well, better go after him before he makes a mess.” 

Draco nodded and followed Potter out of his office. As the walked down the hall and turned a few corners, it occurred to Draco that he was about to step into Potter's private rooms. He slowed his steps a bit and looked over at Potter. “I don't mean to intrude,” he started to say, wanting to give Potter an out if he needed one and, perhaps truthfully, himself as well. He wasn't keen on them picking up their earlier conversation. 

Potter stopped walking all together and looked at Draco, utterly confused. “What do you mean? You're not intruding. Teddy's been dying to meet you.” 

Now it was Draco's turn to be confused. “You've been telling him about me? Why?”

“You're his cousin, Draco. I know you've been figuring yourself out since the war, but I figured that one day you might get curious about him, so he may as well know who you are.” Potter shrugged. 

In that moment, his heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest. “Thank you,” he said with a rough voice, and couldn't look at Potter again until they had made it to his rooms.

Potter opened the door and gestured for Draco to precede him inside, where they could hear papers being shuffled and a few excited shouts. Feeling just a bit apprehensive about what he was about to walk into, Draco crossed over the threshold. As he'd been when he entered Potter's office, Draco was surprised by how Potter had decorated the interior. He had anticipated a Gryffindor haven in rich and overwhelming reds. But Potter's sitting room was homey in rich browns and deep blues. And in the middle was a mess of paper and Teddy staring at them with a wide smile. 

“Come look at my animals!” he cheered as soon as Draco stepped inside. Potter closed the door behind them and pushed lightly against Draco's back, urging him toward Teddy. 

“Let him show you,” Potter said under his breath. “I need to check in with Minerva about what happened to Andy.” 

Draco nodded and stepped further into the room. Teddy was more than eager to show off all his animals, which turned out to be childish drawings of different patronuses he'd seen. There were a few of birds and rabbits he must have seen around his house, but he was most insistent about showing off the patronus drawings, especially the many he’d done of Potter’s patronus. It was obvious even in the drawings just how much Teddy loved his godfather. 

When Potter popped his head out of the flames and came to join them by the couches, Teddy was teaching Draco a game involving weaving string between his fingers. Potter just laughed and told Draco that he’d become obsessed with it since his friend in his primary school showed it to him. He was in the middle of regaling them with a tale of some adventure he went on with his friends when a house elf popped into the sitting room and asked where Potter wanted dinner to be placed. 

Draco shot a questioning look at Potter, who just shrugged and said, “Minerva suggested we have dinner here tonight, I had her send up enough for all of us if you’d like to stay?” Potter was looking at him with such a quiet, hopeful expression that Draco just couldn’t refuse him. 

Especially not when Teddy turned to Draco and gave him a much more obviously hopeful expression as well. “Sure, I’d love to,” Draco said with a slight laugh at the way Teddy was looking at him. 

It was enjoyable, spending time with his young cousin and Potter. When he’d thought that Potter was just being kind to him because he was kind to everyone, he had been wrong. It was obvious to Draco that Potter wouldn’t have invited just anyone to come have dinner with him and intrude on the time he got to spend with his godson. Draco didn’t really know what it meant that Potter was so willing to share this time with him, but he knew deep down exactly what he wanted it to mean. 

Since they’d had a later dinner than usual it wasn’t long afterward that Potter started shuffling Teddy off to bed. Teddy wanted Draco to stay to help tuck him in, and so he did, but once Teddy was all tucked away and the door to his room left slightly ajar, Draco wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Potter, on the other hand, sat himself on his couch and, with a few flicks of his wand, had the papers full of Teddy’s drawings in neat stacks on one of his bookshelves. Then he looked over at Draco and raised his eyebrows. 

“So what were you going to tell me before Teddy arrived?” he asked, having apparently not forgotten the chat they had been having earlier. 

Draco felt his whole body still for a moment, and then he let out a hesitant breath before he came over to gingerly sit on the end of the couch. He could be honest to Potter, after the kindness he was shown tonight he felt rather like he needed to be. “I don’t want us to just be work acquaintances--” 

“Well, now that Teddy’s met you, I doubt he’s going to let you out of his life easily,” Potter said with a grin that quirked his lips. 

“Yes, well,” Draco said, wearing a smile of his own. “Be that as it may, even without Teddy, I don’t--I don’t want that.” It was too difficult, Draco didn’t know how people were able to be articulate when talking about such intimate matters, it made him feel like someone had stuck him under a heavy rock and he couldn’t catch his breath. 

Potter scooted a little closer to him on the couch and looked at Draco in earnest. “What do you want, Draco?” he asked, his voice quiet in the cosy room. 

Draco shook his head and let out a breath, his tongue a large weight in his mouth. “Too much,” he managed to whisper. 

“Too much?” Potter repeated and then his hand was covering Draco’s where he was resting it against the couch cushion. “Too much, like this?” he asked, and Draco gasped at the contact, and looked up into Potter’s questioning gaze. 

Draco flipped his hand over under Potter’s and laced their fingers together. “Yes,” he said, his throat scratching like he was parched. “Too much, like this.” 

And then Potter’s face transformed in front of him, the smile that spread across his features so open, pleased, and happy, Draco had never seen him look like that and it took his breath away. “Good,” Potter said, squeezing their hands together. “I like this kind of too much.” Then he leaned in to Draco’s space, his eyes wide and happy. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, with their faces just a few inches apart. 

“Yes,” Draco said with a happy laugh. He reached up with his free hand to cradle Potter’s jaw as he brought their mouths together. That first soft brushing of lips sent his nerves alight, it was as though kissing Potter was like kissing lightning. Draco could feel the static thrum of magic just under Potter’s skin where they touched, and it was addictive. A small sound escaped his throat and he pulled Potter closer, needing to know what that energy tasted like on Potter’s tongue. 

But then Potter pulled abruptly away, leaving Draco bereft. He tightened his grip on Potter, not wanting to let go yet. When he opened his eyes, Potter was looking at him apologetically. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “It’s just, the Potion is ready. The monitoring spell just went off in my head.” 

“Oh,” Draco said, feeling rather disappointed that Potter took his lax hands as a way to wiggle out of his grip. But then Potter offered his hand to help Draco off the couch. “I guess we should go check it out then?” He didn’t mean to make it into a question, but he wasn’t really sure where they stood now. 

“Yeah, I’ll just put a monitoring charm around Teddy’s room so if he wakes we’ll know. Come on, let’s go find out what was sent to you.” Potter grabbed Draco’s hand and pulled him close. He leaned in to kiss just below Draco’s ear before he whispered, “I’d rather get it done quickly so we can resume where we were interrupted.” 

When he pulled back and Draco could look into his eyes, the heat that was in them made something uncurl in his gut. “Okay,” he said a little breathlessly and let Potter drag him back down to the lab. 

In his lab, the cauldron was sitting right where he’d left it, but now there was a line of ghostlike ingredients hovering over it. He could see the wormwood and the rosewater that Potter had identified the night before. There was some mugwort, what looked like beetle wings, a few hovering eyes among three leafy plants Draco could not identify on sight. Potter immediately walked over to the cauldron, a frown marring his features as he examined the ingredients that hovered over the cauldron. He pulled out a drawer that Draco had not even realized was part of the desk and took a small book out and a pen and then sketched out the ingredients he saw. Then with a wave of his wand, he vanished the ghostly apparitions. 

“What is it?” Draco asked after a moment, where Potter had stood oddly still except for his hand where he was scratching notes into his book. 

Potter’s head snapped up upon hearing Draco’s voice and he said, “I’m not entirely sure yet, it seems like it is some sort of Potion intended to enhance focus--only--” he trailed off with a frown and looked back down at the book. 

Draco let out a small frustrated breath, Potter was much like Severus, keeping his thoughts to himself until he was sure. When all Draco wanted to know was if it was toxic, and if the person who sent it was trying to kill him--he knew Potter couldn’t tell him who sent it, no matter what strange new potions he may have invented. “Only what?” he asked after another moment where Potter did not continue to speak. 

“Only, it’s the myrtle leaves, they don’t belong in a focus potion. I don’t know what to make of them, because when combined with crushed salamander eyes it’s usually in Potions meant to open the inner eye. So perhaps some kind of Divination Potion?” Potter asked, his eyebrows drawn in thought. “But then, why send it to you?” 

“Is it poisonous?” Draco asked, stepping closer to the table, to Potter. 

Potter turned back to him, looking surprised. “Oh, no, it’s quite mundane, actually. I’d like to study it more, if you intend to use it though.” 

Draco waved a hand, “No, I had no intention of taking it. I just wanted to know what it was.” he said. And then quieter, “and who sent it.” 

“Oh, okay.” Potter said and closed his book. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to tell you who brewed it.” He tapped his wand against the cauldron, and Draco didn’t need to look to know he’d vanished the contents. “Since you don’t intend on taking it though, I think further study can wait. Don’t you?” He asked, stepping closer to Draco with a small smile on his face. 

“Probably, depends on what you are thinking of doing instead, I’d suppose.” Draco answered, a grin of his own playing at his lips. He knew they’d have a chat eventually, they had many things to sort out--mostly he wanted to know how long Potter had wanted this for. But for right now, Draco reached out and grasped Potter’s hand and pulled him even closer. For right now, Draco just wanted to taste that electric magic on Potter’s tongue again. 

 

 

**September 2009**

Draco entered the Great Hall before any of the students were set to arrive, but he wasn’t surprised to see Harry already sitting at the Head table, looking like he was vibrating with excited energy. He’d been up like a shot that morning, he was so excited that Teddy was finally coming to Hogwarts this year that he had pretty much been incorrigible all week.

“It’s nearly time,” Draco said as he took his seat next to Harry. When the other man turned to look at him, he nearly had a manic gleam in his eyes. 

“What house do you think he’ll be in?” Harry asked and then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, I just hope he likes it here.” 

Draco reached out to take Harry’s hand to try to calm him a bit. “He already loves it here, Harry. You know he’s going to be fine.” 

Harry grinned at him then and said, “I know, I’m just nervous I guess,” and he let out a small laugh before messing up his hair with his free hand. 

The past year had gone by like some kind of strange dream. Of course, with the two of them, it hadn’t really been easy. They fought as much as they always had, even if this time it wasn’t as sinister--there was that extra layer of possible hurt that they had between them now that wasn’t there before. It made every harsh fight cut even deeper, but they’d always come back together and try to work it all out, and so far they’d been good at getting back to a middle ground together. They hadn’t made any promises about love or forever or anything like that yet, but Draco felt like it was rather implied with how much time they spent together, and how easily Harry had slotted Draco into his life with Teddy. 

It was a few months after he had received the Potion that they got answers, after a fruitless Auror investigation into the ingredients to try to find the sender. Draco hadn’t expected results, since they knew it wasn’t poisonous, and there wasn’t a follow-up package or anything, so it wasn’t very pertinent for the Auror department to find the brewer. When Luna came to visit for Christmas and met them at Harry’s home she had smiled at Draco and said, “So the potion must have worked then?” as she looked at the two of them with pride. That was how it came out that she had sent him the potion she’d found on her travels and had heard that it would help one see what was inside of their heart clearly. Luna told Draco that she was worried about him, that she’d been watching him struggle with himself for so long and just wanted to see him happy. It was a relief to know the Potion had only been so mysterious because Luna was her predictably absent self. 

Even though he’d never taken it, he did tell her that it worked. After all, Draco had never been happier than he was this past year. As he sat there holding Harry’s hand while they waited for the students to file in before the sorting, all he could do was hope that they had many more years ahead of them to enjoy together. 

Then the first years were escorted in by Tracey, and Teddy’s shock of teal hair was incredibly easy to spot among the throng of students. Especially when he started to enthusiastically wave at the head table. Draco gave him a smile and a nod, while Harry waved back at his godson with just as much fervor, making Draco shake his head at the ridiculous people who held his heart. 

When it was Teddy’s turn to sit under the Sorting Hat, Harry squeezed Draco’s hand hard as they waited, until it finally shouted out, “Hufflepuff!” Then Harry shot up out of his seat to cheer for Teddy, who was flushed in pleasure and turned his hair a garish yellow to match his new house’s colours. Draco clapped a little more sedately, but he knew he was grinning widely. It didn’t matter what his preconceived notions about the Hufflepuff house had been when he was a child, he knew it would mean a lot to Teddy that he was placed in the same house as his mother, and that was what really mattered. So when Teddy turned to look back up at the head table after he found his seat at the Hufflepuff table, Draco was smiling with pride at his cousin, even as he pulled a still clapping Harry back down to his seat. 

Once Harry was seated again he turned to Draco, a cheerful grin splitting his face. “Look at him, Draco!” He said as he clasped Draco’s hand in his again. “This is wonderful!” 

Draco just smiled and quelled the urge to kiss Harry in front of the entire school by squeezing his hand lightly. “Yes, it really is,” he said, still smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can show your appreciation for the author in a comment here or on [Livejournal](http://hd-erised.livejournal.com/49220.html). ♥
> 
> This story is part of an on-going anonymous fest hosted at [hd_erised @ livejournal.com](http://hd_erised.livejournal.com/). The author will be revealed January 8th.


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